Translation of La gazza ladra in English Free Download Now! La gazza ladra in English La gazza ladra (, The Thieving Magpie) is a melodramma or opera semiseria in two acts by Gioachino Rossini, with a libretto by Giovanni Gherardini based on La pie voleuse by Jean-Marie-Theodor Badouin d'Aubigny and Louis-Charles Caigniez. See more at Wikipedia.org... Rossini: La gazza ladra (in English) (Majella Cullagh, Jeremy White, Susan…) | Classical music review from Classical-Music.com Reviewer: BBC Music Magazine This performance is based on the successful production of Rossini’s opera last year at Garsington, though with a number of changes in personnel as well as a switch in language. Here it is sung in Jeremy Sams’s effective English translation as The Thieving Magpie. Irish soprano Majella Cullagh leads off with excellent diction and high-quality vocalism as the heroine Ninetta, condemned to death for a theft she didn’t commit.

As her boyfriend Giannetto, Barry Banks hurls himself at Rossini’s ornate writing with a high degree of accuracy. There’s a characterful portrayal of Giannetto’s father Fabrizio from Jeremy White, and a powerful one of his domineering mother Lucia from Susan Bickley. Ninetta’s father Fernando receives sympathetic treatment in Russell Smythe’s humane reading, and even the wicked Mayor is allowed a complex personality by Christopher Purves. As at Garsington, David Parry conducts, hurrying the score in places but generally presenting it with vivacity and spirit. The Philharmonia is on magnificent form and the overture sounds thrilling. The work itself is one of Rossini’s most interesting pieces, couched in the semiseria genre that blends darker elements into a broadly comic mix. It inspires some of his finest dramatic writing, though his sheer exhilaration remains undimmed. The edition makes some cuts – it’s some 40 minutes shorter than Gelmetti’s live Sony account, for instance – but the heart of the score is here, and beating healthily.

George Hall Rossini: La Gazza Ladra Overture - Excerpt 1 THE BASS TROMBONIST'S ORCHESTRAL HANDBOOK Rossini: La Gazza Ladra Overture - Excerpt 1 Return to Handbook Table of Contents Gioachino Rossini's Overture to his opera La Gazza Ladra (translated into English, loosely, as "The Thieving Magpie") is a difficult but rewarding piece for the bass trombonist. Rossini wrote the opera for a small opera house which had a small pit for the orchestra, hence, he scored the opera for a small orchestra which includes a single trombone. Because the range of the work is not particularly high, it is usually played by the bass trombonist, although in the list of instruments in his original score, Rossini writes "tromboni" (sic: despite this, as mentioned above, there is only one trombone part). La Gazza Ladra suffers from having many poor and mangled editions of the work available. There are even editions (by German publishers) which increase the size of the orchestra to three trombones.

The confusion can be sorted out by going back to Rossini's original manuscript to the overture, which may be found in facsimile. Published in 1934 by G. Ricordi (and at the time offered for a price of 40 Lire - to tell you something about deflation, in 2002, 40 Lire is worth about 18 US cents!), the facsimile is our key to unravelling the myriad editions and solving the many questions which have come about as a result. There are three excerpts from the overture which are frequently asked for on auditions. This first one is relatively straight forward. Some editions have staccato marks over some of the quarter and eighth notes, although Rossini's manuscript does not have them. The style, however, is light and dry, and crisp, clear eighth notes are called for. Some editions also have a triplet after each of the first four half notes in this excerpt (the triplet, when written, contains three notes which are the same pitch as the half note). Rossini's manuscript, however, does not have the triplet for the trombone, reserving it for the celli and bassi only.

The excerpt requires a sense of emphasis on the strong beats - the beginning of the arpeggio and the high note in each grouping. Be careful not to fall behind in the quarter rest after each half note; at an audition, the committee is particularly listening for the quality of your articulation (which should be clear, clean and crisp) and an even pulse of the rhythm/meter. Be sure to play this with a sense of it being in "1" rather than hammering it out in "3" - anything you can do to make the excerpt have authority but also be light will add positively to the character. Finding a good place to breathe in the second half of the excerpt is difficult; I recommend "sniff" breathing, which is the technique of sniffing in a quick breath through the nose without removing the mouthpiece from the embouchure. Keep the excerpt moving and don't let it drag!

To download the music of this excerpt as a PDF file which may be read and printed in a high quality output with Adobe Acrobat Reader (free software), click the icon below: Rossini (The) Thieving Magpie | gramophone.co.uk Home » Reviews » Rossini (The) Thieving Magpie Rossini (The) Thieving Magpie Rossini anglicised, and this production takes the Magpie into the top flight View record and artist details Record and Artist Details (La) Gazza ladra, '(The) Thieving Magpie' Gioachino Rossini Composer Christopher Purves (bbar) Gottardo (Il Podestà) Nerys Jones Pippo Russell Smythe (ten) Fernando Villabella Jeremy White (bass) Fabrizio Vingradito John Graham-Hall (ten) Isacco Buy from Amazon This splendid set is something of a homecoming for English Rossini lovers, many of whom will recall with affection the production of The Thieving Magpie Sadler’s Wells staged in the mid-1960s when little was known of this gripping and affecting melodramma in musica other than its celebrated overture.

The new recording comes possessed of its own theatrical pedigree, the memorable 2001 Garsington Opera production sympathetically staged by Daniel Slater and conducted by David Parry with a nice feel for the mood and shape of individual scenes as well as a fine sense of the dramatic line of an opera which has a tale to tell and which tells it well. The last time a festival staged La gazza ladra in the UK – Wexford, 1959 – it was in the adapatation by Riccardo Zandonai (Pesaro, 1941). With a definitive Critical Edition (Pesaro, 1979) to hand for Garsington, Parry shrewdly looked for a small but significant roster of cuts and tidyings. Secco recitatives were pruned; solo numbers which Rossini himself cut – Pippo’s ‘Toast’ and Lucia’s aria – were omitted; Fernando’s Act 2 aria was also removed. So, too, I am happy to say, was the Mayor’s cavatina. It’s concluding Allegretto, in particular, is poor stuff, a clear case of Homer nodding.

The Garsington production was sung in Italian but the piece works well in English and the transition from Italian to English has been carried out with care and skill, not least by the four principals – Majella Cullagh (Ninetta), Russell Smythe (her father, Fernando), Nerys Jones (Pippo) and Christopher Purves (Gottardo, the Mayor) – all of whom sang these roles at Garsington. The newcomer is Barry Banks as Ninetta’s protector and inamorato Giannetto. It is a mark of the care that has gone into the Chandos production that Tom Hammond’s very serviceable translation has been replaced with a new version by Jeremy Sams. One or two phrases jar – the jailer talks of ‘alleviating’ Ninetta’s suffering; ‘questa è troppa crudeltà’ emerges, a touch pretentiously, as ‘the unkindest cut of all’ – yet overall the translation works well. The cast’s refreshingly clear delivery of the English text is a particular joy. What was, by any standards, a well-sung performance at Garsington is here even finer.

Majella Cullagh is outstanding as Ninetta, the guileless peasant girl who is convicted for thefts of silverware which are discovered at the eleventh hour to be the work of the eponymous magpie. Such is her empathy with the role, the elaborately ornamented version of Ninetta’s cavatina which she gives us (based on variants Rossini himself wrote for the soprano Giuseppina Vitali in 1866) succeeds in underlining her spirit and resolve without compromising the sense we have of goodness without blemish. Christopher Purves gives an equally masterly account of the suavely elaborate music with which Rossini characterises the lascivious and venal Mayor. With sympathetic, well-sung performances from Nerys Jones and Russell Smythe, and Barry Banks bringing passion and style to Giannetto, this is as good a cast of principals as we have yet had on record.

Not surprisingly, everything ‘works’, the solo arias and duets as well as the great set-piece scenes: the warrant-reading in Act 1 where the Mayor has forgotten his glasses, the Ninetta/Pippo ‘prison’ duet in Act 2 and the celebrated trial scene (first-rate choral singing) which follows it. The Garsington orchestra did well enough, but under Parry the Philharmonia is able to take the performance to new levels of excellence. The Chandos recording is vivid and true. There are no weaknesses in the playing of the comprimario roles, though I wonder why it was thought necessary to play the Jewish peddler Isacco as a Cockney with an EastEnders accent (‘Ninetta’ becomes ‘Nin’e’a’, would you believe it?) Prunella Scales is the Magpie, Sybil Fawlty’s feral ‘Basil!’ reduced to an avine cackle. It is a clever piece of casting though it is sad that Chandos has felt obliged to add a promotional sticker to the box bearing the legend ‘featuring PRUNELLA SCALES as the MAGPIE’. With or without Ms Scales, the set would be a winner.

ROSSINI, G.: La gazza ladra [Opera] (Moreno, Tarver, Regazzo, Praticò, Brno Classica Chamber Choir, Virtuosi Brunensis, Zedda) La gazza ladra Melodramma in due atti di Giovanni Gherardini after La pie voleuse by Théodore Badouin d'Aubigny and Louis-Charles Caigniez Fabrizio Vingradito, ricco fittaiuolo – Giulio Mastrototaro, Bass Lucia, moglie di Fabrizio – Luisa Islam-Ali-Zade, Mezzo-soprano Giannetto, figlio di Fabrizio, militare – Kenneth Tarver, Tenor Ninetta, serva in casa di Fabrizio – María José Moreno, Soprano Fernando Villabella, padre della Ninetta, militare – Bruno Praticò, Bass Gottardo, Podestà del villagio – Lorenzo Regazzo, Bass Pippo, giovine contadinello al servigio di Fabrizio – Mariana Rewerski, Alto Isacco, merciaiuolo – Stefan Cifolelli, Tenor Antonio, carceriere – Pablo Cames

elle, Tenor Giorgio, servo del Podestà – Maurizio Lo Piccolo, Bass Il pretore del villagio – Damian Whiteley, Bass Gianni Fabbrini, Fortepiano Classica Chamber Choir, Brno • Chorus-master: Pavel Koňárek Virtuosi Brunensis (Karel Mitáš, Artistic Director) Alberto Zedda Music assistant: Gianni Fabbrini Recorded live at the Kurhaus Bad Wildbad, Germany, 1, 2 and 4 July 2009 for the XXI ROSSINI IN WILDBAD Festival (Artistic director: Jochen Schönleber) A Co-production with Südwestrundfunk Critical edition by Alberto Zedda (Universal Music Publishing, Ricordi S.r.l., Milano) An introduction Whenever Rossini reaches an important turning-point in his artistic development he composes a “special” opera which takes up all the diverse experiences that preceded the occurrence of the idea and marks it with the particular characteristic of unusual length.

Three operas with such lasting significance tower above all others: Semiramide, Guillaume Tell (William Tell) and La gazza ladra (The Thieving Magpie) which, apart from their scale, display another common feature, the dispensing with self-borrowing, otherwise such a frequent characteristic. Semiramide, which encapsulates and completes the “Apollonian” group of opere serie begun with Tancredi, marks Rossini’s final withdrawal from Italian operatic life. Guillaume Tell represents the type of “Dionysian” opera, begun in Naples and then taken up in Paris, which makes a feature of the urge for exploration of new ground and experimentation and denotes Rossini’s farewell to a career in the theatre. La gazza ladra, the culmination in the process of the convergence of serious and comic elements, marks the general abandonment of the production of comic operas from that point on. Rossini’s first successes with musical farse in Venice persuaded him with L’Italiana in Algeri to venture into the domain of the “comique absolu”.

This extremely successful beginning already demonstrates a relentless striving with regard to scale and structure, in the painstaking care of the composition and instrumentation, in the choice of different voice types and in the importance and difficulty of the principal rôles, which call for soloists of the top rank. All this elevates Rossini’s comic operas into a sphere beyond that of his Italian forerunners. The study of the operas of Mozart, whom he revered, must surely have helped Rossini to cultivate and to develop these ambitions. In fact La pietra del paragone and even more so Il Turco in Italia exhibit a quest for truth, a burgeoning of unsettling subjects and an eruption of psychological subtleties which shift the balance from the “comique absolu” towards the “comique signifi catif”. This development was carried forward in Il barbiere di Siviglia and La Cenerentola. Thanks to the intelligence and Aristotelian logic of Sterbini’s libretto after Beaumarchais, the realism of Barbiere breaks out forcefully from every corner and makes it the first true character comedy by an Italian composer.

In La Cenerentola the blend of comic and serious genres is executed with such ingenuity that it exerts a profound fascination. One can sense Rossini’s efforts to fuse the contrasts between the tragic and the comic into a beautiful sparkling diamond, yet this fusion does not really happen: not until opera semiseria, of which La Cenerentola is a precursor, will Rossini succeed in achieving the notional fusion of genres. Without doubt, of his semi-serious operas, La gazza ladra comes closest to the intended ideal. The comic element confers plausibility on the feelings of the characters and so humanizes the story in order to impart (to it) the semblance of real life. Through the device of shifting the story into the world of ordinary people (a popular feature of comic opera) Rossini manages to create characters who behave in a realistic and convincing way, without assuming any idiosyncrasies of verismo. These artistic results in La gazza ladra allow us quickly to forget notions of genre and instead to admire a great tragic opera which has a happy ending.

For the most part it is a “dramma giocoso” like Don Giovanni, an opera which Rossini loved, and which embodies a comic subject with a tragic dénouement. So La gazza ladra belongs to a hybrid genre, which is also called “semiseria”, because it contains tragic as well as comic elements. In the middle of the 18th century semiseria operas arose from a taste for sentimental stories, especially the French “pièces à sauvetage” (rescue pieces) which were, already in Rossini’s time, saddled with a number of conventions: a drama with a happy ending in which the innocent party, a victim wrongfully convicted, is saved from the scaffold at the last minute and the despicable persecutor is punished. The social background of these operas is provided by a conflict between the feudal aristocracy (replaced in La gazza ladra by an arrogant official) and the world of everyday people, usually from a peasant background. Inevitably the places where the action takes place are the village square, with the castle or the manor house of the tyrannical nobleman in the background, as well as the local prison.

In La gazza ladra the dramatic elements outweigh the comic or folk-style ones, which is why the climax of the action is reached in the big court scene and in the ensuing funeral march, followed by the obligatory lieto fine (happy ending). If one considers the outstanding dramatic and musical results, which make this one of Rossini’s best operas, the meaning of “semiseria” goes beyond an amalgam of the comic and the serious, and here one can talk of a true opera seria, which is set in everyday life and not on Mount Olympus or in history. The happy ending and the presence of figures of a humbler character, some of whom verge on the grotesque, do nothing to alter this fundamental assertion. The plot is based on a real incident and seems too weak a basis for the enormous musical edifice that Rossini builds on it. But the addition of fairytale-like and naturalistic elements, the elevation of insignificant details in symbolic situations, the presence of dark forces and the marked contrast of exemplary feelings create a meaningful genre characteristic. The struggle between good and evil is enriched by many-faceted emotions.

The tragic atmosphere, already conveyed in the overture by the menacing snare-drum, is tempered by the melancholy which accompanies Ninetta’s thwarted love for Giannetto and Pippo’s gentle and secret enthusiasm. The emotional drama, emphasized by the powerful orchestral recitatives, in which Fernando’s fear is clearly expressed, also leaves room for the comic, with which the arrogance of power, as well as the passive attitude of society, are castigated. Giovanni Gherardini’s libretto, a competent literary work with seasoned dramatic skill, depicts a story in which the lieto fine, brought about by a happy accident, does not allow us to forget the underlying pessimism. Initially, Gherardini had submitted a first version of the libretto, highly praised by Vincenzo Monti, with the title Avviso ai giudici (A Warning to Judges), penned as the result of a competition for an opera libretto organized by the imperial theatre in Milan. Allegedly the libretto was offered to Ferdinando Paër, but he did not want to set it. Rossini, on the other hand, was immediately enchanted by the story.

It is based on the French play La pie voleuse (The Thieving Magpie), a “mélo-historique” (a melodrama based on a historically-documented incident) by T. Badouin d’Aubigny and Louis-Charles Caigniez, which was performed for the first time on 25 April 1815 at the Théâtre de la Porte Saint-Martin in Paris. In chapter XXII of his Vie de Rossini (Life of Rossini) Stendhal mentions that the poor innocent maidservant was hanged in Palaiseau and adds that, to commemorate this miscarriage of justice, a mass, the so-called Magpie Mass, was inaugurated. In order to understand such a punishment, which is out of all proportion to the crime of which the person is accused, one should bear in mind that the story is set in the darkest time of the Napoleonic counter revolution, in which the death penalty was intended even for trifles. From its very first performance La gazza ladra was a huge success.

Even though it was produced at the end of the season 27 further performances were given following the première, on 31 May 1817 in Milan. According to tradition Rossini himself took his place at the harpsichord for the first three performances; the principal rôles were taken by the most famous singers of the day: Teresa Giorgi-Belloc (Ninetta), Savino Monelli (Giannetto), Filippo Galli (Fernando), Antonio Ambrosi (Podestà) and Teresa Gallianis (Pippo). Rossini himself was thrilled by his opera and a few days after the première wrote in an excited letter to his mother that it was so full of music that one could make three or four operas from it, and that it was the most beautiful that he had written so far. Alberto Zedda English translation by David Stevens Synopsis Act 1 A village near Paris. [2] In the courtyard of the estate of Fabrizio Vingradito a celebration is being prepared for the return from the wars of the son of the house. The peasants tease the young Pippo because he is allowing himself to be made a fool of by a magpie.

[3] Lucia, Vingradito’s wife, is indignant about the relaxed mood and her husband’s absence, when he arrives with a basket full of wine bottles. When marriage plans for his son are mentioned, the magpie chimes in with a cheeky cry of “Ninetta, Ninetta”, a choice approved by all except Lucia, who doesn’t want her son to be married to a maidservant. [4] The thought that Giannetto will soon be in their midst to tell them of his war adventures fills them all with joy. [5] Lucia squabbles with her husband, who takes Ninetta under his wing, while she reproaches Ninetta for being unreliable. Giannetto is expected at any moment and his parents want to go to meet him. [6] Ninetta enters with a basket of freshly picked strawberries. She is in a state of happy nervousness, because today she will see her beloved and her father again. Her happiness allows her to forget the pains of separation. [7] Lucia gives Ninetta the silver cutlery and reproachfully urges her to take more care of it; a fork has already gone missing. Ninetta protests her innocence.

[8] At the top of his voice the wandering pedlar Isacco advertises his wares for purchase or exchange. [9] Pippo offers him no hope of any business today. [10] Cheerful music announces Giannetto’s arrival; elated, Ninetta, Pippo and all the servants come running. Giannetto throws his arms around his beloved and confesses that even in battle she was always with him. He can hardly express in words the joy he feels at seeing her again. [11] Now is the time to clink glasses and for Pippo to strike up a lively drinking-song. [12] While the employees withdraw, the family leaves to visit relatives. Ninetta, who is in charge of the estate by herself, is just checking the knives and forks when a man dressed in shabby clothes approaches. She recognizes him as her father Fernando Villabella, but he discourages her from showing too much happiness. [13] In a dispute with his commanding officer, who refused him leave to visit his daughter, he was stripped of his weapons, and immediately sentenced to death. A fellow soldier helped him to escape. [14] Only eternal exile can save his life.

Grief-stricken, father and daughter take leave of each other. Then they see Gottardo, the mayor, approaching from afar. Fernando wraps himself in his coat and pretends to be asleep. Ninetta carries on clearing the tables. [15] The mayor has sneaked up on Ninetta because he knows that she is alone. He has a plan to bring the stubborn beauty to heel, and exults at the thought of conquering her. [16] He greets Ninetta in a fulsomely flattering way and wants her to send the beggar away. But since he is still asleep he doesn’t insist upon it and begins to court Ninetta. Then, to the mayor’s annoyance, his servant Giorgio turns up with an official letter. While the mayor sits down to read it and looks for his glasses, Fernando manages to hand over to his daughter a piece of silver cutlery to pawn it and hide the money for him in a hole in a nearby chestnut tree.

Just as Fernando is about to leave, the mayor orders him to stay; the missive he has just received is a warrant for the arrest of a deserter, which the mayor, having no glasses, gives to Ninetta to read. [17] Hesitantly, she begins to read aloud the warrant of arrest for her own father. Plucking up courage she reads out to the mayor a false personal description. He does not recognize in Fernando the description of the wanted person and brusquely sends him away. [18] The mayor carries on propositioning Ninetta. Fernando watches for a while from a place of concealment until he can control himself no longer and hurls abuse at him. [19] While Ninetta tries to placate the quarrelling men, the magpie swoops down to the table, grabs a silver spoon and flies off with it. CD 2 [1] Ninetta sells her father’s silver cutlery to Isacco, who is just passing by, and puts the money in her apron. Pippo rebukes her for having approached the pedlar instead of him.

On her way to the chestnut tree Ninetta is detained by Lucia, who has just returned home with Giannetto and Fabrizio; she is accompanied by the mayor and his secretary, whom they have met along the way. Lucia counts the silver cutlery and angrily points out to Ninetta that a spoon is missing, in addition to the fork which disappeared a short while before. In spite of Fabrizio’s protests the mayor immediately arranges for a legal hearing; after all the law punishes such a theft with the death penalty! [2] In the course of the interrogation he hears that Ninetta is the daughter of Fernando Villabella, the wanted deserter. As Ninetta takes a handkerchief from her apron to dry her tears, the money falls to the ground. Pippo knows that she received it from the pedlar, who is immediately summoned. [3] Isacco explains that he has already sold on the silverware but remembers that it bore the initials F.V.; every indication suggests that Ninetta has stolen from her master Fabrizio Vingradito. In order not to betray her father, she withholds the truth, which would absolve her.

[4] Guards are called and Ninetta is led away, while the dismayed crowd curses the implacability of the mayor, who is inwardly jubilant. Act 2 The courtyard of the prison in the town hall. [5] The gaoler Antonio feels sympathy for Ninetta and is willing to have Pippo sent for, as Ninetta wishes. When Giannetto asks to be let in, Antonio even allows the lovers a tryst. Giannetto begs his beloved to explain everything so that she can be cleared of blame. [6] Ninetta is ready to die and hopes that one day her fidelity and innocence will be revealed. Both surrender themselves to their anguish. [7] Antonio comes running in and warns them that the mayor is approaching: Giannetto must leave immediately and Ninetta must return to her cell! They take leave of each other in a state of agitation. [8] By order of the mayor Antonio leads the prisoner out. Ninetta will only accept the mayor’s offer to release her if her honour is restored fully and completely. [9] The mayor promises her that—but only if she will comply with his wishes. Ninetta calls for help, while the mayor tries to embrace her.

Suddenly voices are heard outside: the guards are summoning the mayor to attend the court case. Annoyed by Ninetta’s rejection he explains that his love for her has changed into hatred and anger and that he will show no more mercy. [10] Antonio is outraged by the mayor’s behaviour and brings Pippo and Ninetta together. She asks him to take her money and put it in the hiding-place in the tree. [11] Ninetta insists that he accept as a gift her necklace with the cross, for perhaps today this trinket will be worthless to her. Deeply moved, the boy kisses the cross, which he will always carry with him. Choked with emotion, the two of them cannot hold back their tears. [12] Ninetta asks Pippo to give her ring to Giannetto, since she will never see him again. Pippo bravely promises to carry everything out, while his heart is almost breaking. Ninetta and her loyal friend depart in tears. In Fabrizio’s house. [13] The worried Fernando has surreptitiously presented himself at Fabrizio’s house, where he learns from the distraught Lucia that Ninetta has been imprisoned as a thief.

[14] Fernando is beside himself and fears for the life of his daughter whom he cannot help because his own life is in mortal danger. Eventually he banishes all his fears and decides to do everything he can to rescue her, contemptuous of his own death. CD 3 The courtroom in the Town Hall. [1] In the presence of the jury and the people the magistrate pronounces that the accused has been unanimously convicted. [2] The judges declare to the cowed people the implacability of Themis, the goddess of law and order. The magistrate reads out the verdict: Ninetta Villabella has been found guilty of theft from her employer and is sentenced to death. [3] All shudder at the pronouncement. Giannetto harangues the judges and explains that Ninetta has a secret which will prove her innocence. But when she maintains her silence the judges call for the sentence to be carried out immediately. [4] Then Fernando rushes in, intent on saving his daughter’s life with his own blood. He is promptly arrested by the mayor as a deserter, while the sentence of Ninetta is declared final and irrevocable. [5] All are seized by a feeling of helplessness.

Ninetta wants to explain everything but the law enforcers press for the immediate implementation of the sentence: the father in prison and the daughter at the place of execution! [6] In horror all those present comment that the two are not even allowed to embrace each other, and even the judges and the mayor must fight off their own feelings. The village square. [7] Lucia comes out of the church: she feels relieved after her penitent soul has implored heaven for mercy. [8] She hopes for the return of Ninetta, whom she will love like a daughter. [9] Pippo has put the money in the hollow trunk of the tree and now wants to see how much is left for him. He puts to one side a shiny coin which Ninetta once gave him as a gift. As he is counting the rest of the money the magpie hops by, snatches the coin and flies away. Giorgio, who has just come past, has seen the magpie fly off to the church tower. Pippo is determined to climb up after the magpie and Antonio goes with him. [10] Ninetta is led to the place of execution. All the people of the village follow her tearfully.

Pausing in front of the church, Ninetta asks God to give her strength and to spare the life of her father. [11] Then she continues on her way and her preparedness for death blends with the sobbing of the people. [12] Suddenly Pippo and Antonio are heard calling from the church tower: they have found everything in the magpie’s nest and hold up the cutlery. Giorgio does not react, at which the pair ring the church bells. All come running and Antonio announces that the magpie is the thief. Fabrizio and Giannetto race off to the place of execution in order to prevent her death. The mayor disbelieves the explanation of why the bells are ringing. At that moment shots ring out from afar; under the impression that the execution has been carried out Lucia collapses. But then the jubilant crowd arrives, rushing ahead of the freed Ninetta—the shots were fired out of sheer joy. [13] Ninetta is relieved but cannot be happy until she knows the fate of her father. Suddenly he appears, together with his fellow soldier, who has just this minute arrived bringing with him a reprieve for Fernando from the king.

All embrace and Lucia gives Ninetta Giannetto’s hand. [14] While Ninetta and Fernando, together with Giannetto and Pippo, express their relief one after the other, a feeling joyfully shared by all, the mayor, disgruntled, stands apart from the crowd. Reto Müller Rossini: La Gazza Ladra / Jia, Bordogna, Papatheo ... - Dynamic: DYN-CDS567 | Buy from ArkivMusic SEE, HEAR & LEARN MORE!

Notes & Editorial Reviews Works on This Recording Customer Reviews Notes and Editorial Reviews ROSSINI La Gazza ladra ï¿½ Lü Jia, cond; Mariola Cantarero ( Ninette ); Dmitry Korchak ( Gianetto ); Michele Pertusi ( Gottardo ); Alex Esposito ( Fernando ); Manuela Custer ( Pippo ); Kleopatra Papatheologou ( Lucia ); Sandhya Nagaraja ( Read more class="ARIAL12i">Magpie ); Haydn O of Bolzano and Trento; Prague C Ch ï¿½ DYNAMIC 5671/1-3 (201:00) Live Pesaro 2007 A live performance of this production was reviewed in Opera Magazine November 2007 by Hugh Canning, and the DVD release of it by Bill White in Fanfare 35:6. Both critics agree that the performance is another example of rotten staging. Obviously this CD release is more promising since it does not subject the viewer to the miserable production.

As White wrote: ï¿½Iï¿½m a great fan of Rossiniï¿½s music, but Iï¿½m not going to recommend this poor excuse for operatic entertainment.ï¿½ In Fanfare 14:4 David Johnson wrote a long four-page review of the Sony Classical CD of this opera conducted by Gianluigi Gelmetti and starring Katia Ricciarelli, William Matteuzzi, Samuel Ramey, Luciana Dï¿½Intendo, and Ferruccio Furlanetto. It also contains a complete libretto with an English translation. In Fanfare 17:3 David Mason Greene reviewed another CD released on Fonit-Cetra Italia. Greene referred to Johnsonï¿½s review and called it ï¿½a magnificent article-length review that told the reader just about everything he needed to know about the work itself.ï¿½ I agree with Greene and also refer all readers to Johnsonï¿½s review. White said that the singing is mixed, and I agree. Vocally Michele Pertusi is a good evil mayor and the Pippo of Manuela Custer is fine.

The principal role of Ninette is sung by Mariola Cantarero, who does not have the ability to sing this strenuous role in the necessary bel canto style. Dmitry Korchak is good in his role, and the rest of the cast is decent. The opera is complete and well conducted by Lü Jia. The booklet contains a listing of the bands, notes in Italian and English by Mariateresa Dellaborra translated by Timothy A. Shaw, and a synopsis of the plot. The sound is excellent. While the miserable DVD release is not at all acceptable, this CD is recommendable to all those who are Rossini lovers. FANFARE: Bob Rose OPERA NEWS - La Gazza Ladra July 2012 — Vol. 77, No. 1 ROSSINI: La Gazza Ladra Cantarero; Korchak, Pertusi, Esposito; Prague Chamber Choir, Orchestra Haydn di Bolzano e Trento, Lu Jia. Production: Michieletto.

Dynamic 55567 (Blu-ray) or 33567 (2 DVDs), 201 mins., subtitled In the chronology of Rossini's stage works, La Gazza Ladra shares the year 1817 with La Cenerentola,which it followed by four months, and Armida,which followed it by three. This tale of an honest servant girl condemned for a theft committed by the titular magpie was billed as a melodramma, but today it's most often categorized as an opera semiseria — one that mixes comic and serious elements, with a happy outcome de rigueur. With Rossini, though, the "serious" can sound not merely semiserious but downright lighthearted: here,for example, much of the scene following the heroine's death sentence seems no graver than Cinderella's appearance at the prince's ball. True gravity — or at least an ingenious simulacrum of it — was something Rossini learned later in life and probably never much esteemed.

For most of its two-century career, La Gazza Ladra has been known best for its scintillating, martially infused overture, and repeated hearings of the complete opera haven't displaced the overture's primacy in my affections. Still, once the curtain rises, there's more fine, splendidly constructed music (much of it comfortably familiar in outline, if not specifics, from other operas of Rossini's). Exceeding three hours of music, its storyline flimsy, its tunes less than top-drawer, La Gazza Ladra still manages, by that weird Rossinian alchemy, to beguile. Damiano Michieletto's production, concocted for the 2007 Rossini Opera Festival in Pesaro, helpfully draws a firm visual line between the comico and the serio,with his Act I largely in the former camp and his Act II — beginning with a rainstorm that leaves the singers wading through its aftermath — firmly in the latter.

This being twenty-first-century Europe, of course there's a concept, which posits the opera as a modern tweenage girl's funny-dream-turned-nightmare in which she's the thieving magpie, impish at curtain rise and cowering at final curtain before a punitive firing squad — at which point, as inevitably happens in dreams, she wakes up. The white cylinders she plays with before falling asleep become, much enlarged, the set, which continually reconfigures to suggest the various scenes. But Michieletto proves nearly as adept an alchemist as Rossini in making it all cohere and, more important, entertain. He clearly worked hard with his hardworking cast, and they deliver the essence of scene after scene, despite some less-than-front-rank vocalism. For years the choice recording of the opera has been another Pesaro production, on Sony, from 1989, and strictly in terms of the musical performance, the new issue does not threaten to unseat its predecessor. Mariola Cantarero, for instance, is a good enough Ninetta, but her shallow, fluttery soprano is no match for even a past-her-prime Katia Ricciarelli in sheer allure.

Dmitry Korchak's nasal, metallic Giannetto, likewise pleasant enough to see and hear, lacks the sweetness and idiomatic delivery of Sony's William Matteuzzi. The best performances come from two low-voiced Italians — Alex Esposito (even looking far too young), as Ninetta's fugitive deserter dad, and Michele Pertusi, as her unwelcome suitor, the Podestà, easily the opera's meatiest role. They're both fine, but back in 1989 Ferruccio Furlanetto and Samuel Ramey were better still. The supporting cast is unexceptionably good, and in the title role, dancer Sandhya Nagarajatackles her task with wide-eyed mischief and charm. Chinese conductor Lu Jia, with a decade and a half of experience in Italian theaters under his belt, leads a fully idiomatic, well paced performance of Alberto Zedda's critical edition of the score. Sound and image are both first-class: the camerawork handsomely captures the production's simple, bold lines and palette (as well as the singers' ample sweat and not-well-camouflaged head mikes).

If you're not expecting perfection, you can easily expect a good show. PATRICK DILLON Send feedback to OPERA NEWS . Rossini Opera Festival - festival - Stories - La gazza ladra Act One The Great Courtyard of Fabrizio’s House The members of the household are joined by their neighbours from the village to celebrate the return home of Giannetto, son of the well-to-do tenant farmer Fabrizio Vingradito, who is coming home from the wars; whilst the table is being set everyone is amused to hear a magpie, from its cage, repeatedly call out the name of Pippo, a young peasant lad in Fabrizio’s service. After having sung the praises of wine, Fabrizio confides in his wife, Lucia, that he would like to see their son, Giannetto, married to Ninetta, a servant-girl of theirs. Lucia, however, is not at all disposed to favour the poor girl; on the contrary, she complains that the girl has her head in the clouds and that recently she has even managed to mislay a silver fork.

Whilst everyone is inside the house, preparing the party, Ninetta, delighted that her beloved Giannetto is coming home, comes down the hillside and is paternally greeted by Fabrizio; they are interrupted by Lucia, who is still vexed about the disappearance of her spoon. The three go off, leaving the stage to Isacco, the village merchant and moneylender, who enters the courtyard to peddle his wares, but meets only Pippo who cordially invites him to be off. Now the stage fills up again Giannetto, who warmly embraces Ninetta, whilst Pippo sings a drinking song. Giannetto goes off whit his parents to visit a sick uncle, and Ninetta is left behind alone to look after the house. She is joined by a man dressed in rags whom she at once recognizes as her poor father, Fernando Villabella: after many years as a regular soldier he has been forced to run away from his regiment, having been condemned to death after a quarrel whit his captain. To avoid recognition Fernando wraps himself up in his rags again upon the arrival of Gottardo, the Podestà of the village, who has taken a fancy to Ninetta.

The Podestà now renews his amorous overtures to Ninetta, but she repulses him; Fernando, whom the Podestà believes to be a poor wayfarer, stays in a corner pretending to be asleep. An urgent message arrives for the Podestà, who is forced to look for his spectacles; Ninetta takes advantage of this respite to comfort her father, who gives her some silver cutlery and asks her to sell it for him, and to hide the proceeds – which will help him to escape – under a chestnut tree on the edge of the wood. Meanwhile, since the Podestà, cannot find his spectacles, Ninetta is called upon to read out the document: it turns out to be an order to arrest her father for the crime of desertion. However, in order to turn the inquiry off the right track, Ninetta reads out a completely false description of the wanted man. When Fernando observes that the Podestà is again molesting Ninetta with his unwelcome attentions, he cannot restrain himself any longer and sends the old magistrate off packing, but he goes away muttering dark threats.

Whilst the scene is deserted, the Magpie flies out of its cage, onto the table and steals a spoon. A ground-floor room in Fabrizio’s house Ninetta sells her father’s cutlery to Isacco, but as she is about to go and leave the money under the chestnut tree she is delayed by the return of her employers, accompanied by the Podestà, who congratulates Giannetto upon his military successes. Whilst setting the table Lucia discovers that now a silver spoon is missing. Despite Giannetto’s protests the Podestà instantly opens an inquiry, discovering at once that Ninetta is the daughter of the deserter that he is meant to catch and that she has a sum of money about her that she is unable to account for. Pippo, who has known all along that Ninetta has sold a spoon to Isacco, inadvertently reveals this to the Podestà, who, anxious to be revenged for the insults to his dignity, summons the usurer, who testifies that he has bought a spoon from the girl, bearing the initials F.V. engraved upon it.

Everyone is now convinced that this cutlery was the property of Fabrizio Vingradito, whereas Ninetta, to protect her father, dares not reveal that the initials really stand for Fernando Villabella. Amidst the general dismay, the Podestà accuses Ninetta of theft and orders her to be led away to prison. Act Two A hall in the prison Antonio, the gaoler, whose heart has beem touched by the poor servant-girl’s plight, lets Ninetta out of her cell to enjoy the daylight. She begs him to call Pippo, to whom she has something to say. Meanwhile Giannetto, distraught by the idea of the possible guilt of Ninetta, manages to obtain an interview with her from the gaoler: Ninetta declares that she loves him and that she is innocent of the crime imputed to her, but she also states that she will not exculpate herself before the Tribunal because she wishes to protect someone to whom fate has already been severe. In fact, the girl refuses to compromise her father by explaining all the facts in the case. Giannetto goes away, promising to do everything in his power to save her.

Left to herself, Ninetta is now joined by the Podestà, who once more pays court to her, promising to set her free if she will accept his love. When she refuses him for the umpteenth time the Podestà goes away making fresh threats. Drum-rolls announce the preparations for the trial. Pippo now comes in; hoping to save her father, Ninetta begs him to lend her three scudi, and hide them for her under the appointed chestnut tree before nightfall. Then, having a foreboding that she will be found guilty, Ninetta gives him a ring for Giannetto and bids Pippo a fond and tearful farewell. A ground floor room in Fabrizio’s house Lucia, who has always believed Ninetta guilty, is assailed by doubts and remorse. She comes across Fernando, who is distraught at not having found the money for his escape under the chestnut tree; when Lucia tells him that Ninetta has been unjustly imprisoned, Fernando decides to give himself up in the hopes of saving her. The Hall of Judgment The judges pronounce the death sentence upon Ninetta and nothing is gained by Giannetto when he intervenes, trying to persuade her to reveal her secret.

Now Fernando makes his way through the crowd and gives himself up, imploring the court to save his daughter. His intervention, however, has come too late: the sentence, once pronounced, cannot be revoked. Ninetta is led off to the scaffold, Fernando to prison. The village square Lucia comes out of the church where she has been praying for Ninetta’s safety. Ernesto, a soldier comrade and friend of Fernando, now arrives in the deserted square: he wishes to inform the Podestà that the King has granted Fernando pardon and freedom. He meets Pippo, who has just left the three scudi under the chestnut tree, and who shows him the way to the Podestà’s house. Pippo counts over his remaining money and, when Antonio joins him and the two are chatting together, before their very eyes the Magpie swoops down and steals a coin from Pippo’s hand, flying off to the church tower with it. As they run off in pursuit, the procession accompanying Ninetta to execution, passes through the square. However, Pippo and Antonio have now discovered the stolen cutlery in the bell tower, and everyone can see that the Magpie is the real culprit.

Ninetta’s innocence has been proved, and whilst the church bells ring out a joyous refrain, Giannetto and Fabrizio run off to stop the execution. Everyone rushes to the square at the sound of the bells, and they are joined by the Podestà. Suddenly rifle fire is heard: everyone fears that the execution has taken place, but instead cries of joy hail the arrival of a triumphal car, filled with flower, bearing Ninetta. The rifles had been fired in the air as a joyful salute. However, Ninetta is fearful for the fate of her father, still in prison, but thanks to Ernesto, he has been freed and now embraces his daughter. Before the eyes of the astonished Podestà, Lucia joins together the hands of Ninetta and Giannetto, amidst the general rejoicing.

ROSSINI La gazza ladra | gramophone.co.uk Home » Reviews » ROSSINI La gazza ladra ROSSINI La gazza ladra View record and artist details Record and Artist Details (La) Gazza ladra, '(The) Thieving Magpie' Gioachino Rossini Composer Giulio Mastrototaro (bass) Fabrizio Vingradito Luisa Islam-Ali-Zade (mez) Lucia Maria José Moreno (sop) Ninetta Bruno Praticò (bass) Fernando Lorenzo Regazzo (bass) Gottardo (Il Podestà) Mariana Rewerski (cont) Pippo Maurizio Lo Piccolo (bass) Giorgio Damian Whiteley (bass) Priest (La) Gazza ladra, '(The) Thieving Magpie' Gioachino Rossini Federico Sacchi (bass) Fabrizio Vingradito Katarina Leoson (cont) Lucia Kihwan Sim (bbar) Gottardo (Il Podestà) Alexandra Kadurina (mez) Pippo (La) Gazza ladra, '(The) Thieving Magpie' (La) Gazza ladra, '(The) Thieving Magpie

' Rossini’s La gazza ladra, based on the story of a French peasant girl who was hanged for thefts later discovered to be the work of a thieving magpie, is Rossini’s masterpiece in the semiseria form, the tensions between comedy and tragedy fused into ‘a sparkling diamond’.

So argues scholar-conductor Alberto Zedda, who edited the work’s Critical Edition (Ricordi, 1979) and who conducted its first complete recording (Italia, 10/79 – nla). That Italia set was a useful standby but Zedda’s new recording, taken from performances at the 2009 Rossini in Wildbad Festival, is much finer. The only mystery is why it has taken so long to reach us. Back in 1979 Zedda’s conducting was still work in progress. In this Wildbad performance he is very much master of his craft, conducting with a mixture of guile and élan that calls to mind the Rossini-conducting of Vittorio Gui. As the curtain rises on a busy village scene, the music seems to dance on points. This is very much an earnest of things to come. The Czech-based Virtuosi Brunensis were a newish ensemble in 2009 but under Zedda they play like born-and-bred Rossinians, endlessly responsive to detail and to those instrumental colours which Zedda’s love of the music makes manifest.

Like its immediate predecessor, La Cenerentola, La gazza ladra is an opera in which sentiment and pathos rub shoulders with human cruelty – except that La gazza ladra is no fairy-tale. Zedda understands these complex stylistic dimensions. Henrik Nánási, the conductor of David Alden’s recent Frankfurt production, runs a tight ship but his is a more formulaic view of Rossini which can end up making the music itself sound formulaic. As a veteran of the Rossini scene, Zedda knows who the good young Rossini singers are. He also knows the skills they need and the freedoms they can be given in this particular score. Bruno Praticò aside, there are few ‘names’ in his cast, yet the singing is more or less consistently stylish and sharply etched. This is in marked contrast to the largely non-Italianate Frankfurt cast. Sophie Bevan is a vocally kempt and mettlesome Ninetta but many of the Frankfurt cast are out of their depth. The opera’s three principal bass roles, which include Ninetta’s deserter-father and her would-be seducer the local mayor, are testing at the best of times.

Here they are particularly poorly done. Frankfurt’s small theatre cuts go deeper than Wildbad’s, notably in the recitatives, which are dispatched at speed. These are not by Rossini, nor do they deploy the usual stress patterns, which is not a problem for Zedda’s Italian-trained cast, who deliver them with typical point and dramatic intelligence. Frankfurt has a terrifying magpie, where Wildbad’s is the work of a rather feeble male impersonator (no Johnny Morris he). The march to the scaffold is chillingly done in Alden’s production, not least the offstage rifle fusillade (specified by Rossini), which causes the villagers to fear that Ninetta has indeed been executed. In Wildbad the fusillade is missing, which is a serious omission. The denouement already has a slightly end-of-evening feel to it. This apart, the Zedda recording is an important addition to the Rossini discography which should stand La gazza ladra in good stead for some years to come. Neither set provides an English translation, though the Italian text can be downloaded from Naxos’s website.

Question: How does Rossini's opera 'La Gazza Ladra' translate into English?
Answer: 'THE THIEVING MAGPIE'